Somewhere Sometime
by ashes of roses1
Summary: A baby is gone; what does that mean for its parents?


"Somewhere, Sometime"

She touched her belly, in a lackadaisical attempt to bring back the child that had been growing inside of her just yesterday. The child who she knew wasn't there anymore. The tears began to fall freely from her eyes; symbols of the pain in her broken heart. 

Biting down on her lower lip, she sat up straight in the hospital bed, still in her hospital gown, waiting for her husband to return. He had run out of here at the first mention from the good doctor that their baby had been a stillborn, and she hadn't seen him since. Her wait had lasted for twenty some odd hours, and she was growing restless, knowing that she had just lost her child, but more aware of the fact that the one person she needed the most right now wasn't there for her.

"How are you doing?" came the reply from the doctor, as he entered her cubicle. 

"How do you think I'm doing!" she snarled, her emotions finally exploding like fireworks at the innocent man. 

He cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I came to let you know that you can leave in one hour."

She nodded, her whole body trembling from the loss of her baby. 

Packing up a little bit later, and clearing some last minute information with the medical staff, she headed out of the hospital, refusing her mother's and mother in law's assistance. Not seeing her husband anywhere, she chose to go home, in hopes of finding him there waiting for her. 

In the car as she drove home, she recalled how just before exiting the hospital, she had walked past the maternity section, where all the babies lay. Looking through the window, she gazed at the babies and the proud parents who were sweet talking their new borns. Her hand pressed upon the window, as the hot tears escaped from her orbs. 

"You belonged there, little Natasha," she whispered, before stumbling off towards the nearest exit without a look back. It would only make things harder emotionally. 

The dream her life had become as her husband had said "I do," a mere seven months ago was nothing like the nightmare she was feeling now. How she wished she could go back in time, to relive that moment over and over for the rest of her life. She never wanted to feel pain like this again. But all of her life experiences had fostered her to become a realist. She knew that her pregnancy was the deciding factor for her marriage to the only man she loved - she knew it was what had tied them together, and now, with this unsucccessful pregnancy, she knew it would be what would break them apart. Hoping she was wrong, she stepped inside. 

Walking through the door, she dropped her suitcase down in the living room, and headed for her bedroom. Exhausted, she plopped down on the bed, closing her eyes as her head softly grazed the feathery cushion, but not before noticing a slip of white paper on the neighboring pillow. 

She fingered it slightly, unsure if she wanted to read the words and learn what fate they held for her in one small letter. She knew what the contents of the letter were, she knew deep down what volition had been opted by the writer of the letter. Her husband. But she read anyway because she had to _hear_ him one last time:

_Gwen,_

If you're reading my words now, you know that I have left you. I'm sorry I couldn't be a better man, a proud one. One who stays by his wife's side, through the thick and thin, like the vows I took when we married. But I am not that man. I am spontaneous, you know that and so do I. Everything I have done has been sudden, such as this letter. Gwen, you know I'll love you always. You are in _my heart. But you know where my heart truly lies. I know you think I'm the love of your life, but you're wrong, Gwen. If I was, I wouldn't be writing this to you. We wouldn't be in this predicament. Somwhere along the line we both came to realize that you and I weren't meant to be. You can deny it, but I know you feel it too. This is the wisest decision; best we break apart this union before it eats us alive rather than stay in a marriage not completely defined by love. I am following my heart and it is leading me onto the road fate has chosen for me. I hope you find your little journey to true love in the near future. _

On the chiffonier is my wedding ring. We don't need it anymore. Good luck and thank you for everything. 

Ethan

She held onto the letter, her eyes still focusing on the words he had scrawled. His words, _thank you for_ _everything,_ replayed in her mind again and again. What did that mean? _Thank you_ _for everything?_ What was everything? Was it the love she had suspended only for him? Could he mean the trust she had preserved to him in their 10-year long relationship? _Thank you for everything._

"You're welcome, Ethan," she sniffled, in a low voice. Her tone wavered between angst and closure of her connection to this man. Slipping the wedding ring off her finger, each centimeter of movement deleting and tarnishing every year they had spent together, growing up, getting closer, falling in love, she placed it right next to his lonely one, before walking out of the room. Thus began her quest to find herself the love Ethan knew awaited her somewhere, sometime. 

{a/n: I hope you enjoyed this. Review and tell me how I can improve.}


End file.
